User:Lefty
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The Log of a Survivor
February 25, 2006 -These last few days have been going by so fast. I would have written more in my journal but I ran out of bullets on Wednesday and threw my pen case at the zombie to slow it down so I could escape.
-I find myself on the move again today. I stopped feeling comfortable inside of the Middleton PD and decided to search the Pegrum Place PD for more ammo. I'm so out of bullets right now... God I hope zeds don't come knocking on our door tonight.
I'm so upset. I was holed up inside of Spicer Row PD for the last long while but when I tried to get inside last night the doors were far too barricaded for me to get in. I was so upset because I was already so tired. I'm just glad there was another Police Station on Midelton Crescent so once again I feel safe about where I'm staying. This might be better too. This place isn't so far out of the way, I might finally run into one of my old co-workers.
My outlooks still isn't positive, but at least I can sleep at night now.
February 21, 2006 -I got one! He thought he was so awesome being a zombie, then I ran up to him and shot him in the face with a flare gun. He went down flailing like a little zombie girl, begging for the fire to be put out. Oh, the flames went out alright, and I don't need to use a restroom anymore.
I don't know what it is, I feel so much more "up" now. I took one of those bastards down and now I feel like I'm on top of the world.
February 20, 2006 -What is wrong with me? I had three of them standing right in front of me and I missed with all 6 shots. When I reloaded and fired again I only landed two of those six slugs inside of their putrid frames. I'm better off throwing the gun at them next time, at least I'll hit something... *sigh*...
-I've made it. I've made it to Dulston. The place looks deserted but there are bodies everywhere.
-I'm stranded. I've tried to enter 5 different buildings in this suburb but all of them are sealed as if they were holding some sort of immense treasure. Damn it all, let me in I'm human!
February 19, 2006 -I'm so tired. I made it to a police station in Pashenton. I'm not sure which. I couldn't make out the sign and at this point I don't really care. I'm so tired from all this running. I hear tell that the way ahead is safe but I'll stay here another day searching for supplies I'll need on the road ahead. I can never be too safe. I can never be safe.
-I thought I was ready to make the trip to Dulston today but I don't think I have the energy to make it there yet. I'm going to keep resting here until my legs feel strong enough to carry me the rest of the way there.
February 18, 2006 -Moaning. Not what I wanted to wake up to. He was sick, infected, and he knew it. He was begging for death, turning right in front of us. We knew that our bullets were no cure for what ailed him. No axe would end his pain. I couldn't stay. I escaped from the school and intended to head to the nearest police station.
When it came within view my heart fell like it has so many times in the past few days. Zombies, more than I'll ever care to see, crowding the streets around the building. "The Breeden Way Police Department is not safe," I had to tell myself before moving north.
I think I'm safe here in Simper Towers. Well, I'm safe from the zombies anyway. How am I to know another one of us won't turn and try to feed on me while I rest here? What does this matter anymore? Ugh... I can't take it. Surely I'd be better off leaping from this tower's high windows. The impact would destroy me and then at least there would be one less eventual zombie roaming the streets. NO. Focus, man, focus. I need to get there. I need to get to Dulston. I need to stay alive and I need to help everyone I can. I can do this. I will do this, to my last breath.
February 17, 2006 - I've just now awoke from what must have been some sort of coma. My uniform, pistol, and (luckily) my journal were left in my room, appearantly for me to find when I woke up. My memory is so hazy. I can hardly remember what has happened so far.
My mind is so slow to think, but writing helps even if it's only for my own sake. Help... someone, escort them to D.. Dulston. It must have been my orders. I have to get to Dulston. That is where I must go.
- After resting a bit I decided to make my way towards Dulston. I stopped momentarily at a police station in Shearbank to search for anything I could use as a weapon. I came across a pair of flare guns, a few pistol clips, another pistol, and 4 shotgun shells. Those shells will do me no good if I can't find a gun to use them with.
I should have stayed there, sheltered inside that heavily barricaded building with nearly 60 other survivors. Together we might have been able to form a plan, some sort of order could have came from that chaos. Hindsight is 20/20, it always will be, but I was in too much of a hurry to think straight. "I have to keep moving," I kept telling myself.
After once again hitting the streets I started to hear the noises... the moans of those not as fortunate as myself. "Fortunate," what a word to describe my situation in this hell. I'd let them come and take me if I knew that would end my suffering, but I know all too well that it'd only be the beginning of my suffering.
The moaning that I thought I was escaping from ended up crossing my paths so many times in this short day that I doubt my luck could be much worse. A lone zombie, then several, then a dozen, then a countless number of rotten, walking corpses ambling slowly in no particular direction. I tried my best to avoid them and pray to anyone or anything that will listen to my pleas that they did not notice me. The last thing I'd want on my conscience is being responsible for the deaths of the 10 other people I am sharing this place with.
After all of my traveling this day, I find myself inside the Wetherell Row School. Half-finished work is scattered across the floor. The building has been very strongly barricaded. I knew this place once, such a shame to see it like this. I'll rest here for the night. If I wake up I'll continue my journey then.
